A Broken Heart

Nothing feels quite like a broken heart.

It's true.

A broken heart is the single greatest pain you will ever have to endure, in fact, the most hurt you can ever imagine: and the one who commits this emotional crime is not someone you hate; it is not even someone you dislike. No, because the only person who is capable of breaking your heart is the one who holds it precariously in their hands, the one with whom you have shared your dreams, your secrets, your fears - the one you love more than anybody else in the world... and therein lies the irony.

However, that is the chance you take. Love is all about risk. If you give your heart to someone else - as most of us do at one time or another - it is theirs to do with as they wish. You now have absolutely no control over it, and whether it remains intact is up to them.

Heartbreak is an odd kind of pain, because you are not dying. You are not even sick. For all intents and purposes you are perfectly fine, yet inside - where your heart used to be - you hurt so much that you can't breathe, you can't sleep, and you can't stop the tears from falling. You may eat too much; you may not eat at all. Non-smokers light up; non-drinkers find a bar.

A broken heart is the world's great equalizer, because it can bring even the strongest man to his knees.

It happens to the best of us, they say. Time heals everything, they say. What doesn't kill us can only make us stronger, they say. And my personal favorite - it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Yeah, right. BULLSHIT, I say.

You will listen to any advice you are given - take a walk, take a holiday, join a gym, get a haircut - because everybody over the age of consent thinks they have an Honors Degree in Heartache. Too much TV!!!

At the end of it all though you won't actually take any of this armchair psychology seriously, because you are STUBBORN, and because nobody else knows what the hell you are going through anyway. I mean, how could they?

It's your heart that lies bleeding on the floor next to you, not theirs. It's your tears. It's your pain for God's sake!

It's easy to spot someone who has just had their heart broken. You'll see them out walking aimlessly, like extras from a zombie flick, muttering to themselves in a language only they understand. Every now and then one of them is run down by a passing truck or bus. Man, LOVE REALLY IS BLIND! Not that it really matters anyway. It's survival of the fittest. Nothing personal.

How long does it take to get over a broken heart? It's simple really. NEVER. There is no glue to mend that kind of thing; no bandage, no quick fix. All you can do is bend down, pick up the pieces, and hope you have enough there to find a little happiness once the tears have dried on your cheeks. Sure, you move on, you go out with other people, you smile, you laugh, you love again, you get married, you have two-point-four children, you collect your pension, YOU DIE. You may very well have a good life, a great life even - but that break is ALWAYS there.

There may be days, weeks - months even – when it doesn't cross your mind at all, but don't go fooling yourself into thinking the pain has gone. You have it tucked away along with all your best kept secrets. You will be on your deathbed and through the haze of your memory the only thing you will know for sure is what happened to your heart all those years ago.

Very few people go through life unscathed – only the LUCKY ONES amongst us. Love is a bumpy ride. Most of us have to endure a few scratches and scrapes along the way, a couple of bruises, a fracture or two, and then that final rite of passage into adulthood - the broken heart. Pat yourself on the back; you are now in the club. You never wanted to sign up, I'm sure, but you're here for life. 'Til death us do part, baby.

Get over it!